Promised to You

by Gina Cole

  “That’s easier said than done,” she countered but tried to relax a bit. Minutes later, she found herself swaying with the animal and it was actually a little easier to ride rather than fighting the gait and pace the horse was keeping. It also had her moving with Gawain instead of against him, setting her nerves afire. Maybe there was actually something between them after all, just as Eve claimed?

  They rode on in silence for a while, watching the landscape pass with not a building or person in sight. She occasionally saw animals off in the distance but they quickly darted into the underbrush, forest, or into dens underground. The skies above were clear blue with hazy clouds off the horizon.

  Part of her believed what was going on right now and another part kept looking for some sign of civilization. She wanted to see an airplane so badly so she could yell ‘ah ha!’ and ruin the joke the world seemed to be playing on her… only there were no airplanes. No streams of clouds in the sky from jets that had flown over in the past. No pollution or haze over a city off in the distance. The more ground they covered, the more real this whole fiasco was becoming to Gwen.

  Which meant that this stranger, according to Eve, was going to end up being someone very special to her – possibly her soulmate or whatever that would entail. She had always loved the bittersweet romance books but was skeptical at what falling for someone would be like. She’d dated a few guys but usually not more than once or twice. They were pushy, or arrogant, or simply didn’t click with her. The idea of getting her hopes up, based off some weird woman’s word, just didn’t sit well with her. Instead, she would look at this whole situation as another project to analyze so that way her mind could cope with everything going on.

  As they came up over a hill, she gaped at the land before her. Grassy fields were covered in men in different varying ranges of garb, regardless of the weather. She saw some with what looked like warpaint sprawled across their chests and faces, complete with loincloths, with weapons in hand. Others were wearing cloaks, tunic like shirts, leggings, and trouser pants cinched tightly with leather belts. A few had extremely short hair shorn neatly, but most of the soldiers had long hair that was quite shaggy with beards.

  “Percival! Kay! What say you, my brothers?” Gawain called out in greeting loudly, making her jump against him. Several men waved, flagging him down. Gawain pulled the horse to a stop and slid down easily, hugging several men who looked up at her curiously.

  “Brother, have you found a new prey to hunt in the woods?”

  Gwen’s hackles rose immediately. Whoever this man was that was walking over, she instantly did not care for him in the slightest. He was devastatingly handsome, perhaps even more so than the gorgeous Gawain who had rescued her… but it didn’t take but two seconds to realize it was only skin deep. This man, whoever he was, had issues. There was something hiding behind his eyes that made a person curious to know more – which made him a little creepy in her book.

  “Lancelot, we have never hunted maidens, my brother, nor shall we begin today.”

  A charismatic voice carried over the breeze and she was stunned to see several of the men bow easily as the speaker stepped forward. He was quite spry and energetic in appearance, easily making him look even younger – but it didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes were full of knowledge and awareness of everything around him. This man was a born leader and it showed in every step he took towards where the gathering of men waited.

  “Please stand,” he said easily and offered up a hand towards her. This was a gesture of peace towards her and she’d be a fool to decline it publicly before everyone around them. Gwen took his hand and quickly slid off the horse, adjusting her dress nervously as she stood there. He smiled as his eyes dropped to the ground and then rose back to meet hers in a silent command.

  Crap!

  Gwen quickly dipped a curtsey and flushed nervously, having no idea if she’d even done it right. It seemed to satisfy him as he turned from her and clapped Gawain on the shoulder, walking off and leaving her there.

  “Gawain, what say you? Where did you manage to find that bedraggled young one?”

  “My liege,” Gawain said just before she got out of earshot as everything around her suddenly went back into motion. The clanking of pots, laughter, and crackling of fire, the banging of swords as the men practiced fighting skills, the sharp thwack of arrows hitting a target… all of it… was sinking in.

  His words, the few names she’d heard, and the realization of where she was, was dizzying. Eve was right – it wasn’t a ‘where am I’ question she was supposed to have asked. It was definitely a when. Gawain’s liege was Arthur Pendragon… and she was surrounded by legends.

  Chapter 4

  “Mayday! Eve? Eve! Can you hear me?” Gwen whispered, walking off towards where she saw several other women sitting alone around a fire. She wasn’t about to just stand there until someone told her where to go. She was going to find a place to regroup and think. She never paid attention in history class or else it might have clicked a little earlier on at what was going on here.

  The knights of the round table.

  King Arthur.

  Gawain… best friend of Arthur, most beloved and virtuous knight.

  Virtuous meant virgin in her books.

  Soulmates had emotional and physical ties, didn’t they?

  This had to be all wrong – or she was going to end up ruining a legend by falling for him. That is like being responsible for making Elvis mute, Christopher Columbus won’t get on a boat, or Cleopatra never falls for Antony… or something along that line of thinking. How do you live with yourself after ruining a LEGEND?

  “Yo, Eve! I have a 911 and we need to talk now,” she whispered again as she walked, growing closer to the other ladies. They were all perched on little hand-crafted stools, careful not to get their clothing too close to the fire. One woman turned to look at her and Gwen pulled to a stop, blinking.

  “Eve?”

  “Gwen, dear, come join us.”

  “Ohmygosh, I am so glad to see you,” Gwen said in a rush, grabbing the stool closest to Eve. “We need to talk.”

  “Ladies, may I introduce my niece, Gwen,” Eve said lightly. “She shares a name with your highness.”

  Gwen’s eyes slid over the women and landed on an unassuming woman who was smiling happily. She was very pretty, but it was the genuine joy in her eyes that made her truly beautiful. Gwen knew in an instant she was staring at the legendary Guinevere.

  “It’s no wonder…” she breathed, rising to her feet and curtseying again.

  “Pray continue,” Guinevere said lightly, nodding and ushering Gwen to have a seat.

  “It’s no wonder the people love you,” she admitted to the queen. “You’ve got such a lightness in your heart and it’s easy to see how happy you are. People follow joy.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” she said, laughing lightly. “People follow the strongest leader, ideals, and dreams. Arthur is legendary in his ability to lead his men onto the field of battle.”

  “You have no idea, sister,” Gwen muttered, only to get a bowl of some sort of porridge or gruel thrust in her hands.

  Silence! Eve told her mentally, smiling. Now is not the time to be confirming you aren’t from here nor the fact that we are chatting mentally, right? This time period believes in mages and the supernatural. Unless you want to be labeled and estranged, I’d be quiet if I were you.

  You mean I’d ruin your little secret?

  I can leave you here alone if you think you hold all the cards.

  No wait – please stay. I think there is a problem.

  What’s that?

  I think there’s been a mistake.

  I don’t make mistakes… well, there was this one time in Morocco… oh never mind. Actually, come to think of it – I did goof royally with Anne Boleyn. Never dreamed the man would actually execute her.

  You are not making me feel any better – just FYI.

  Sorry. You were saying?

  I thin
k there’s been a mistake. Gawain is the legendary knight…

  Yes, yes. He goes off in search of the Holy Grail.

  Exactly – and that knight is a virgin.

  What’s your point? You are wanting to shag him already?

  What? No! I wasn’t going to say that? Did you actually just use the phrase ‘shag him’ in a sentence? Seriously?

  Isn’t he handsome?

  He’s gorgeous – but that isn’t the point.

  Don’t you want to be attracted to your husband?

  We aren’t married! You are confusing me!

  Better than confusing me! Eve chimed in lightly. I know that the Grail guy’s name starts with a G and he’s a good man who will treat you well – so much so that you can’t help fall in love.

  I’m sure lots of names start with the letter G around here.

  Exactly. Gawain, Geoffery, Galahad, Gino, George…

  Wait! – there is no knight named Gino.

  There should be, shouldn’t there? What a sexy name…

  Maybe Galahad was the Holy Grail guy? I wish I read more historical romances – I do love billionaire books though.

  Oh, me too – those rich men are just supremely fun!

  Right?

  What were we talking about? Oh yes, you want to shag Gawain de’ Grene already, ya’ little strumpet. Look at you go all in on this soulmate thing! I’m proud of you, little one! This is the easiest case I’ve had in forever!

  What’d you just call me?

  It’s not a curse word – and tell me you’d kick him out of your bed.

  He is beautiful.

  All that long black curly hair… he is perfectly dreamy!

  What? Gawain has straight brown hair that is a little shaggy around his face. He doesn’t have black curly hair, Eve.

  You said ‘shag’ this time.

  Who are you talking about, Eve?

  Who are you talking about, Gwen?

  That guy walking towards us right now…

  Gwen smiled politely and rose to her feet as Arthur and Gawain walked up to the circle of women who were eating their meals silently. They all dipped slightly in a slow fashion, making Gwen realize just how bad her original curtsey was towards the king.

  “Have you a husband?” Arthur said immediately, with little greeting.

  “Me? No, I do not, but I really…”

  “Have you family here?”

  “She is my lady, Eve’s niece,” Guinevere chimed in.

  “Ah – so you have returned to your people then? Where is the rest of your family?”

  “Gone, my liege,” Eve blurted out. “She is alone and I am only passing through to return to my husband.”

  “What?”

  “Then it’s settled. My lady wife, will you ready the girl to marry?”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  “Who am I marrying?”

  Arthur looked at her as everyone around her grew silent.

  “She’s a little unruly – a husband would do her well, sire,” Eve said quickly, yanking Gwen’s hand and drawing her into another curtsey.

  Tell him you are grateful for his help.

  “I am grateful for your help, milord,” Gwen quickly parroted.

  Now, be quiet.

  Gawain stood there silently, hoping Arthur didn’t change his mind. The moment he’d seen Lancelot take an interest in the young woman he’d rescued, he immediately asked for her hand in order to protect her from the other soldiers.

  Warring was not an easy life and he had no time to return her to the village. Marrying her would give her protection, his name, and keep Lancelot away from her. The lecher was already bragging about tupping the fair maiden that ‘Gawain delivered to him’.

  He could do worse than to have a woman he considered lovely gracing his bed and tending to his home. He’d been praying to God for guidance and perhaps she was put on his path for a reason. He had to trust in his faith that this was the next step for him.

  “You want to marry the woman?” Arthur repeated, surprised.

  “Aye,” Gawain said immediately. “I wish for her hand this very day.”

  “Are you so overcome with love for the fair creature?”

  “I believe her to be chosen by God for me.”

  “That’s a bold statement, my brother. She’s a bit old to be taking to wife.”

  “Tis my belief. I was praying for guidance when I heard her cries for help, rescuing her from drowning. She is comely, manageable, and would warm my bed easily. I could not hope for more.”

  “What about love, my most treasured knight?”

  “My love will never waiver – it is my God, my king, my land – and then my heart. I believe there is enough affection in my heart for everything I hold dear – including a wife.”

  “My Guinevere is my life,” Arthur said quietly, looking off in the distance. “She is my everything and it would destroy me to lose her.”

  “If I ever lost my wife, I would turn my life to God and service of my king to fill that loss.”

  “We are truly different, my friend.”

  “That we are,” Gawain said evenly as Arthur clasped his arm fully from the wrist in a bonding handshake.

  “Then she is yours.”

  “Thank you, my liege.”

  “We shall announce the good news and prepare for your wedding posthaste. She will be my gift to you for your continued loyalty and service to the realm.”

  Gwen was stunned at the flurry of activity and what a wedding consisted of here in this time period. Her face and neck were whitened with chalk. A rod was put in the fire while ash was carefully applied to her eyebrows to darken them. Her hair was combed, parted, plaited, and then curled with the heated rod. Ochre was rubbed on her cheeks and lips to redden them.

  The women exclaimed at how lovely she was, but Gwen felt like she was wearing clown makeup and wanted to wash her face. This all felt so strange, so foreign. Where were the white wedding gowns and bouquets?

  This is their custom.

  I feel like I’m wearing makeup an inch thick on my face. What I wouldn’t give for some Almay or Cover Girl right about now.

  You look awfully fancy and I’ve seen a few of these weddings. You’ll fit right in just like the locals.

  That’s what I’m afraid of.

  You realize that you are a local now, right?

  I’m never going back am I?

  If you go back, it’s to the husk of a body that is dead.

  Well give it to me straight, why don’t you? Gwen said sarcastically, feeling her eyes burn with unshed tears. She was stuck in this nightmare of a time period with no amenities whatsoever. This was bound to be a hard life and she was certainly used to quite a bit more comfort.

  No beds, no microwaves, no maxi pads, and no toilets.

  Barbaric.

  A bright red veil was carefully laid over her head as a yellow cloak was pinned to her shoulders. Gwen was escorted from Guinevere’s tent to what felt like the center of this chaos. She saw Arthur, Gawain, the creepy Lancelot, and two other men standing there. Five women moved towards the side, starting with Guinevere, who stood directly next to her husband.

  Gawain stepped forward. She felt Eve press her gently towards him. Taking the hint, she joined him in front of the king. Arthur extended his hands towards the two of them, taking their hands in his. The king then placed Gawain’s hand atop of hers.

  She listened, expecting to hear something similar to wedding vows or anything resembling a marriage. Instead, it was a toast given to the soon-to-be husband congratulating him on his bride. Gwen was given several sprigs of rosemary that was extremely fragrant and she was positive it was another sort of symbolism that she had yet to understand.

  The king spoke in one language, then another, and finally turned to Gawain with a warm smile on his face.

  “She is yours, my friend.”

  That’s it? Gwen thought only seconds before she froze. Gawain took a step towards her, lifting the bright
red veil, and leaning forward. His hand touched her cheek, turning her face up towards him. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest as his face grew closer, hesitating. His breath caressed her skin only seconds before his lips touched hers.

  Tender, tentative, and gentle.

  Gwen felt her whole world turn over in that moment as she suddenly knew what those romance books had been talking about. There was a heady, elemental power in kissing the right person. She had never felt such a sizzle of desire rush through her veins.

  She realized Eve had been spot-on selecting Gawain.

  Never doubt it, Eve cackled in her mind gleefully.

  Chapter 5

  “Let us drink!” Lancelot said boisterously, pulling Gawain away with several of the men. Gwen watched stunned as he was ushered off with his fellow knights and brothers. He looked over his shoulder towards her as if to check to make sure she was being taken care of.

  She hoped he felt guilty.

  Maybe he’d get drunk and puke somewhere.

  That was kind of a crappy thing to do right after you married someone. It was like a bachelor party – only he wasn’t a bachelor anymore. Who goes off like that with their buddies? Especially right after a kiss like that? Guess it could be worse – there could be a bedding ceremony or something like that, she mused.

  “Come. Let us make you ready for your husband’s return,” Guinevere said kindly, nudging her towards the rows of tents that were being occupied for the evening. Glancing around, Gwen noticed that Eve was nowhere to be seen.

  Shoulders slouching, she followed the women as she was led away to a nearby fire that had water heating on it. She was grateful that they seemed to understand her need to be clean and free from all this goopy makeup.

  Several of the tents were very low and squatty to the ground. It was obvious she would not be able to stand once she’d entered it. As if they read her mind, she was led behind a larger tent and given a little privacy to wash up.

  The bright red veil and yellow cowl were returned to Guinevere, folded neatly away and placed in a small chest inside her larger tent. Gwen realized that the queen had loaned her the same veil she’d married Arthur in. Now there was a humbling surprise she hadn’t expected to ever occur! she thought wildly.